


like Bella from Twilight

by bilexualclarke (ohalaskayoung)



Series: tumblr prompts [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not even sure what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 15:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7623352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohalaskayoung/pseuds/bilexualclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite being glamorized in comic books and movies, being a mind reader is actually pretty awful. When it first happened, Clarke nearly went insane. The constant barrage of thoughts and voices in her head that weren’t hers was almost enough to drive her crazy. </p><p>prompt: “hold the fuck up. hold. up. I can read any mind that I can see, anyone and everyone’s, why can’t I read yours? and why the hell are you smirking at me like that U LIL SHIT THIS MAKES NO DAMN SENSE WHO ARE YOU”</p>
            </blockquote>





	like Bella from Twilight

Despite being glamorized in comic books and movies, being a mind reader is actually pretty awful. When it first happened, Clarke nearly went insane. The constant barrage of thoughts and voices in her head that weren’t hers was almost enough to drive her crazy.

 

Clarke Griffin was sixteen when she was assisting her father in his lab when suddenly their experiment went bad. She was close, and he was closer. Two weeks after his funeral, she woke up to her mother’s voice in her ear, but she was three rooms away.

 

It was through that that she realized that her mother knew the dangers of the experiment the whole time, but didn’t tell her father because she didn’t want to risk loosing the research. Abby Griffin didn’t know her daughter would be in the lab, but the fact that she didn’t deem her husband’s life valuable enough spoke volumes.

 

Clarke finished high school with a home tutor, too overwhelmed by everyone’s thoughts to sit in a classroom. She learned to tune the thoughts out over time, both for her sake and for the privacy of others, and she now only listens in when she desperately needs to. Or when she’s bored.

 

Like now, for instance.

 

When her Medieval Lit professor won’t stop droning on about nonsense she doesn’t care about and so she’s staring intently at the man with a mop of dark brown curls across the lecture hall. His tanned skin is painted with a smattering of freckles, and he’s staring at the professor with a look of boredom and contempt.

 

And also, for the first time in years, Clarke can’t hear a damn thing coming out of his head.

 

 _Hold the fuck up,_ she thinks suddenly, when she realizes. I can read any mind that I see, anyone and everyone’s. Why can’t I read yours?

 

Her shock is doubled when the man turns to her, makes direct eye contact, and quirks his lips.

_Why the hell are you smirking at me like that?!? You little shit! This makes no sense! Who are you?_

 

Hot, smirking asshole chuckles and looks back down at his notes.

 

Clarke grips her pencil tighter and narrows her eyes. _I’m going to figure you out, motherfucker._

* * *

"We grew up in a bad neighborhood, my sister an I,” the Hot, Smirking Asshole tells her later, after she grabbed his arm and practically shoved him down an empty hallway after class, demanding an explanation. They grabbed a cup of coffee from the dining hall and we were walking to the library, eager to get some privacy to chat.

“The guys in the apartment next to us were into some weird shit, trying to make new drugs or something. One day an experiment went bad and their whole apartment went up in the blast. They died instantly, but the walls were thin, and some of the radiation reached us. And the girl across the hall.”

 

Bellamy is his name. His sister, Octavia, now lives with the girl across the hall who was also affected by the blast, Raven.

 

“What can you do, then?” Clarke asks. They find a secluded corner in the history section, and Bellamy pulls out her seat for her.

 

“I can shield people, kind of? The only way I can think to describe it is a bit embarrassing, actually.” Bellamy blushes. “Have you read _Twilight_?”

 

“Everyone has read _Twilight_ ,” Clarke says, rolling her eyes.

 

“Right. True. So, uh,” Bellamy laughs, “I basically can do what Bella does. You know how she can shield people with her brain? That’s why you couldn’t hear my thoughts.”

 

Clarke grins. “No way! That’s awesome, actually. How’d you figure that out?”

 

“Well, it’s not just protecting someone from mind readers like you. I can almost sense when someone is having bad thoughts, like if they’re having a panic attack or something triggers them. I can block those thoughts from happening in their own head, too.”

 

Clarke’s heart swells. She had done her research over the years, and she has determined that when “powers” like hers result from radiation exposure, they normally only amplify certain traits that are naturally there. Clarke, on the one hand, was always very good at reading people. It seems like Bellamy just wants to protect everyone.

 

“What about your sister? And Raven?” Clarke takes a sip of her coffee and scoots closer to Bellamy, trying not to obvious as she inhales his scent. It’s a soothing mix of mint and and the dark roast coffee they’d been drinking.

 

“Octavia’s strong. Like, insanely strong. She can hold me above her head with one hand, which is both awesome and terrifying.” Bellamy grins at Clarke’s wide eyes. “Raven can move things with her mind. You know, like telekinesis or whatever. Their powers are much cooler than mine.”

 

“I’d love to meet them, if that’s okay,” Clarke says, getting excited. “I’ve never met other people with powers before, and I didn’t know they could be so awesome, either!”

 

Bellamy brings her to meet the two women for dinner at their apartment the following week. Octavia hugs her tightly, lifting her as if she weighed no more than two pounds. Raven smirked as she used her telekinesis to top off Clarke’s wine glass from across the room.

 

“You know, this looks like a bad superhero movie waiting to happen,” Bellamy remarks later that evening, nursing his glass of wine next to Clarke on the couch.

 

“Superheroes? Nah,” Clarke laughs. “Vigilantes, maybe.”

 

“Yeah? I’ll go get my mask.”

 

“I’ll drink to that.” Clarke smirks as Bellamy clinks his glass against hers.

 

“Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on tumblr!  
> (bilexualclarke)


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